


The Gilded Cage

by Medie



Category: Star Trek
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-28
Updated: 2010-05-28
Packaged: 2017-10-09 18:34:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/90306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her answering smile was shaky, weak, and better than any illusion the Talosians might have presented.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gilded Cage

**Author's Note:**

> events mentioned herein by our unnamed doctor appeared in [Fire Or Water](http://archiveofourown.org/works/89862) which was an episode of the Enterprise Virtual season I wrote (it's an explanation as to why Betazed, despite being so physically close to Vulcan, supposedly didn't join the Federation until around the time of Star Trek: The Movie). This was written for [](http://boosette.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**boosette**](http://boosette.dreamwidth.org/) who asked for Pike/Number One 'Upstairs' for the [Alphabet Meme](http://medie.livejournal.com/1726396.html)

He hated the silence. She sat across from him, eyes calm and expression neutral, fingers laced together between her knees. The very picture of non-judgmental interest, waiting for his answer. It rankled.

"How the hell should I know?" he shot back in response to her question, barely resisting the urge to say 'you're the therapist, you figure it out'. Not that it mattered. He saw the barest glimmer in her eye.

A bitter part of him swore.

"I'm not reading your mind, Captain," she said.

"Aren't you?"

She grinned. "Aside from the fact I'm trying not to, your facial expressions make it a largely moot point. If it makes you feel better, I did object when Starfleet asked me to interview you."

"Afraid of misplaced aggression, Doctor?" he asked, bitterness creeping into his tone.

"Not in the way you're implying," she said. "A hundred years ago, your people came to my world."

He remembered the history. Remembered what they'd learned in school - the carefully sanitized version - and the family history from home. His grandmother had been a member of the diplomatic party. She'd told him the story of a young Enterprise crewman drawn into the murder of a young Betazoid woman, a crime for which he'd been framed through telepathic manipulation.

"You're familiar with the incident." It wasn't a question. "I remember the name Pike."

"My grandmother."

"I know," she said. "My grandmother was a part of it as well."

"The Chancellor?"

She shook her head. "An investigator." She rubbed one finger over a ring she wore on her thumb. Looked silver, but the markings were Betazoid and he wasn't at all familiar with their metallurgy. "We've carried the story with us ever since."

"And you didn't want to come here because?"

She smiled. "I didn't believe it fair. The kind of manipulation you've been victim to, Captain, is immense. Horrific. I -- " she let her dark gaze drift upward. His did as well. Number One. "She's an amazing woman."

"She is," he agreed. "I can't -- " he smiled. "I can't believe she did it."

"I can." Her smile widened. "I'll tell you of a concept among my people sometime, Captain."

Something about her secret smile suggested that, maybe, he'd enjoy that. "But for now -- "

She sighed. "Yes, now." Leaning back, she pressed her hands to the dark fabric of her slacks. "The Talosians are powerful telepaths, Captain. The kind of influence they exerted on your mind was truly terrifying. My people -- " she exhaled. "We've never seen such focus."

He'd lived years in a matter of days, caught up in an intricate web of deception. The telepathic illusions had been so _real_. "I'm honestly not sure of anything right now."

"That's to be expected," she nodded. "And part of why I'm here."

"Takes a thief?"

She looked confused, genuinely, and that was oddly a relief. She _wasn't_ reading his mind and that, more than anything, had him explaining with a smile.

"Ah, yes," she grinned, "that would be an appropriate reference. With your permission, I would like to conduct our sessions on two levels. A verbal discourse is a must, but at some point I would like to enter your mind. We need to work on the boundary between reality and illusion."

He breathed out, slow and even. It burned to admit he was afraid, but he was. On so many levels he was.

"It won't be today," she said. "Or tomorrow. It might be months." She smiled. "But for today, I'd like to prescribe something."

"Which is?" his question was wary, hesitant, but after everything, Chris thought he deserved that freedom.

"Live in the world a while," she said. "Sun on your face, dirt beneath your feet, that sort of thing. No matter how talented the Talosians are, no matter how talented any telepath is, the illusion will always fail to live up to the real thing." She rose and reached for her coat. It was a light, filmy thing. A nod to the Mojave heat. "Not much of a prescription, I know, but -- "

"I think I can handle it." He followed her to the door. A young, bright-eyed ensign waited outside with a skimmer, ready to take her to the nearest transport station. "Same time next week?"

She nodded and he closed the door behind her.

"Live in the world awhile," Number One said. She sat at the top of the stairs, hair loose around her shoulders, stark against the pale skin of her shoulders. He stood at the bottom, staring up at her, and understood why the Talosians had been so quick to 'separate' them. Why the Number One of his mind had left for her own command. Why he'd taken the promotion so easily. "I like her."

He grinned. It felt hollow, fake, but it was the best he could do. "Of course you would. She represents quite a triumph, Commander. You single-handedly coaxed Betazed into the Federation with one glorified rescue mission."

She offered a tiny smile as her initial response. He let himself imagine the furor on the Enterprise in those initial days. The failures of the weapon's fire, Boyce's grim evaluation of the Talosian abilities, the equally grim realization they couldn't even be sure of their course away from Talos IV.

He'd read the reports, devoured everything he could find, and knew they'd warped away from Talos IV on autopilot, letting the computer do the driving until they were far enough out they dared trust their own senses. From there, at Lieutenant Spock's suggestion and Number One's responsibility, had been a straight shot to Betazed. Chris didn't have any idea precisely what she'd said to the Betazoids that led to ships of them accompanying the Enterprise back to Talos IV, but it was Number One.

He had a feeling it'd been pretty damn spectacular.

"Seriously," he murmured, starting up the steps. "The word is the Federation President's halfway ready to give you a ship of your own." He sat down next to her, bumping shoulders.

"I already have a ship to be responsible for," she replied. "Someone has to keep the seat warm." _Until you're ready_ was unspoken, but he heard it loud and clear.

Without looking, he wrapped his fingers around hers. They were cool, clammy, and he squeezed tight. "Can't think of anyone better."

"I can." Her eyes were on him, he could feel the scrutiny and the vulnerability of her regard. It was a gift, a treasure, something that she'd let no one else in the universe see.

He thought of those excruciating moments in the Talosian cage. The shame hidden beneath the iron control of her expression.

They'd done an incredible job of recreating her. He'd never known the difference. Never been given enough of an opportunity to think twice. They'd seen to that. He didn't know how much of that Number One's feelings had been drawn from the real deal and how much had been his own projections. Desires.

He still didn't.

"Did you hear?" he asked.

"No," she replied. Honest. She wouldn't. No matter how curious she was, she wouldn't.

He told her. In quiet, barely audible words, he told her. He told her of that moment in the cage. Of 'her' actions on the surface. Of the awkward silence that had descended between them in the weeks that had followed, weeks which stretched into months, culminating in her transfer to the Farragut.

Halfway through, she pulled their joined hands into her lap, holding on tight.

By the end of it, he thought he could feel a tremor running through her.

"I don't know," he murmured. "I can't tell. I _thought_ it was real. Everything -- " he swore quietly. "I thought it was all real." He still felt the fiery pain of the accident. The agony that had consumed his body, turning every day into a discourse in endurance, of how long he could hold out against the siren song whispering in the back of his mind. He lowered his head. "They won. They broke me."

He understood the helplessness now, Vina's agonized words coming back to him. She'd been unable to do it. Unable to return to Earth and face the family still mourning her loss.

He hoped the Betazoids could help her. He snorted. Hell, he hoped they could help _him_.

To her credit, Number One offered no words of reassurance. No flowery promises that he'd held out, fought, survived everything. She stayed silent, mute, but her grip didn't waver. In fact it tightened, the edges of her fingernails biting into his skin. A sharp pain that snapped at him, nipped, pulled him back to himself and out of the shame-filled memories.

"You might be keeping that seat warm for a long time."

"I will."

The vow was as solemn as any she'd ever made.

He lifted their joined hands, bringing hers to his lips. She shivered beneath the feathered kiss, a soft exhalation of breath her only comment.

"Thank you," he said, murmuring the words into her skin.

She laid the palm of her free hand against his cheek, turning his face toward hers. When his gaze met hers, he froze beneath the emotions on display there. It wasn't something he dared comment on, dared try to touch with words, and for a moment he wished desperately for even an inkling of telepathic talent.

Anything that would let him share the emotions building within him in answer to that look.

Number One stood up, pulling him with her. "Walk with me?" she asked. "I've never seen your home and I'd like to."

He smiled. "Live in the world a while? Not what I had in mind, Commander."

Her answering smile was shaky, weak, and better than any illusion the Talosians might have presented. "You have to start somewhere, Chris." He could still hear the 'sir' hidden within his name, but there was a softness on his name that hinted at private moments unseen. Moments suggested by the Talosian manipulation.

He tensed for the instant it took to reject the thought. He pulled her into his arms, permitting himself the luxury of holding her. "I think I'd like to start right here."

"I have no objections to that," she replied, her lips brushing his neck with every word.

He shivered this time and his grip on her became something just a little desperate. He didn't care. Right now, he needed it and, somehow, he didn't think he was alone.

There were things they needed to say, conversations they needed to have, and revelations that needed to be made.

Whether they were here or back in the Talosian cage, he didn't give a damn. They were going to do it.

And, when he could trust the world around him again, then they were going to do something about it. Something he'd never thought he'd let himself experience.

He pulled back, looking at her. "I could still be there and I don't think I'd care."

"I would," she said. Every line of her body testified to that determination. She pulled his head to hers, lips taking his, and he let himself be devoured. Let himself fall into her. He wanted more, wanted to take her to bed and lose himself in her, to let himself explore her body. Map each and every imperfection, treasuring them all in turn.

More than that, she'd let him.

He could feel the certainty of it in the press of her body and the play of her lips against his.

He didn't ask. She didn't agree.

Moving as one, they parted and she smiled. "I would."

"Come after me again?"

Her smile took on a fierce edge. "With every telepath in the galaxy behind me if necessary."

Chris believed her and, almost, _almost_ felt sorry for the Talosions. Almost. "Yeah? That going to be your idea of an encore?"

She laughed, nodding. "It might be."

"I think I'd like to see that."

"I'd rather see the ranch." She took a step down the stairs, looking back at him with her outstretched hand still holding his. "Show me?"

"Gladly."


End file.
